She opens her eyes, and finds light pouring in to the room. She stares at the window. She lies on her side. She feels the covers pulled up to her chin. She feels a body next to her. A man with his arms wrapped around her. She rolls over, and looks at him. Much to her surprise he stares back at her.

"That is creepy."

"I didn't want to wake you."

"Why are you holding me?'

"I don't know," he admits.

"What's on your mind?"

"Why do you ask?"

"I can tell, from the look in your eye."

"Well, Sarina, if you must know, I was thinking about our marriage."

"What about our fake marriage?" She makes sure to emphasize the word fake.

"Well we have been married three years."

She thinks back to the file, "Our anniversary is June 12th," she recites.

"Do you think that we want kids?"

"This is a fake marriage," she reminds him.

"I know, but people are going to ask. We need to discuss it."

"Can't we just tell them that it is none of their business?"

"That never goes over well."

"We can just say that we're waiting for the right time," she suggests.

"Ah, the elusive, right time. Maybe you're waiting for the right time, but I'm ready now. I am not getting any younger."

She cracks a smile, "You certainly are not."

"How many do you want?"

She studies him, trying to discern what she's really asking her.

"In real life," he clarifies, "Do you want kids?"

"Yes."

"How many?"

"Two."

"Boy, girl?"

"It doesn't matter, besides I don't get much of a choice. You take what you get."

"Uh huh."

"What about you? How many do you want?"

"Seven, one for each day of the week," he jokes.

"Seriously."

"At least two."

"At least?"

"Only children are always weird."

"You are an only child," she points out.

"I know."

"I always figured that I would have a daughter, to pay me back, double."

"A daughter? I cannot picture you with a daughter. Or a son, for that matter. You are terrible with children."

"I think that it would be different if they were my own. They would get used to me."

"You are awkward around children."

"You never know when they are going to barf on you, or pee on you, or do something crazy."

"I cannot imagine having another one of you, running around."

"What about you? Can you imagine having a child, like you?"

"No. I would hope that my child was not like me," she admits.

"But she would have your eyes."

"Whatever you are visualizing right now, just stop," she warns.

"You are not getting any younger either, you know."

"I am aware of that."

"Don't you think that you should start thinking about having children, if you..."

"With who? Who am I going to do that with?"

"I don't know. You could go to a sperm bank."

"A sperm bank? How would I raise a child, on my own? With the hours that I work?"

"So you have given this some thought?"

"Yes, maybe."

"So you would, like children, one day?"

"If the timing is ever right."

"And if not?"

"It probably never will be."

"It will."

"How do you know?"

"Because you deserve to have what you want."

His stomach growls, and she smiles.

"Is there any food in the kitchen?" she questions.

"I don't know. We probably should have looked, before we went to bed."

"Especially with your delicate eating schedule."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"As soon as your feet hit the floor, you have to eat."

"Your point?"

"You get cranky when you're hungry."

"And you don't?"

She stretches, and crawls out of bed. She leaves the room, and a few seconds later she follows after him. He finds her in the kitchen. She stands in front of the open refrigerator.

"Well, what's the verdict?"

"Milk, bread, eggs, butter, jelly. That is all that is in this kitchen."

"Obviously he thought that we could do our own grocery shopping."

"Yes."

"So what are we having?"

"I guess we're having eggs."

"Am I cooking, or are you?"

"You know how to cook?"

"I am a very good cook."

"I'll cook you breakfast, I think that it is part of the job description."

"What job description?"

"As your wife."

"Like you have ever been traditional."

"I'll make your breakfast, but you are in charge of dinner."

"And for lunch?"

"You will have to fend for yourself," she smiles as she turns on the stovetop, and places the frying pan on top of it.

"I could just kiss you right now."

"No one is watching us, so please don't," she warns.

"You never know."

She rolls her eyes, as she cracks the eggs.